Scott and Ororo, Monday night

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott and Ororo pause for a moment on a very busy night.


Scott rubbed his hands over his face, trying not to let the sigh escape. Phone calls had been made, both by the Professor to the parents of the students involved and by Ororo to Snow Valley, apprising them of the situation. Charles was searching in Cerebro, and there were X-Men checking out the scene. There wasn't much more to be done, right this second. Except for one thing, and he was avoiding it.

"I'd rather shoot myself in the head," he confided to Ororo.

"I cannot say I blame you," came the weary reply as Ororo sipped at a cup of coffee - her third or fourth that evening, she had lost count. "Still, it is very much a necessary evil. And it will only get worse the longer we wait."

"There are only so many variants of the 'something terrible has happened' post, have you noticed that?" Oh, he was so procrastinating. "'So and so has mangled themselves', 'So and so is acting like a possessed thing, run in the other direction if you see them please'.. 'Batten down the hatches, we can expect Magneto for tea'..."

"The headmaster has disappeared without a trace and no, we do not know where he may be?" 'Ro countered wryly. "So it goes, Scott. It is the nature of our lives. All we can do is try to assuage whatever speculation may arise and continue our efforts to find them."

"We'll find them," Scott said, sounding calm enough despite his words as he went on. "I really... give up, you know. There is no way to keep them even moderately safe. This is ridiculous."

Ororo didn't look nearly as composed as Scott, and all she did for a moment was nod her agreement before even trying to speak. "For all that I know that we cannot blame ourselves... it is difficult not to. I cannot help but feel we did something wrong or missed something... something important that would have kept them safer."

Scott raised an eyebrow at her, even as he pushed his chair over to one of the Situation Room's computer terminals. "Don't start," he warned her, although his voice stayed level. "There's not a damned thing we could have done. This is not a prison and we can't give them X-Men escort every time they set foot off the grounds."

"Yes, but..." At another Look from Scott Ororo stopped protesting; after all, he was right. Logic wasn't doing much to dissuade her feelings of worry and guilt, but it was good to try and remember, all the same. "How long has Charles been in there?" she asked, switching the subject and inclining her head towards the wall in the general direction of Cerebro. "And should one of us attempt to convince him to rest?"

"If he's still in there by midnight, yes," Scott said crisply, fingers flying over the keyboard. The only good thing about having done so damned many of these fucking 'I regret to inform you' posts was that he could do them in his sleep. "That's about as long as I'm willing to let him go without stopping to eat and drink, at least."

"Very well." Nodding, Ororo sipped at her coffee and considered their next course of action. It was remarkably frustrating to realize there weren't many options. "I suppose I will take first shift in my office should any of the students or staff wish to speak to one of us."

"Not past midnight, or I'll drag you back out," Scott said. "I should make some more calls. Let them know at Muir and on the West Coast what's going on." He sighed, hitting send on the post. "I hate waiting."

"So do we all," Ororo agreed, pushing herself to her feet and heading for the door. "Especially when it is all we can do."